


To Derail the Mind of Me

by Lafeae



Series: Whump/Hurt/Comfort challenge [22]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Drama, Established Relationship, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Whump, lots of messy feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-25 19:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30094263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: “Kaiba. Kaiba? What happened? Was that gunshots? Kaiba?....Seto! Answer me, dammit! What the hell’s goin’ on? Where are you? Are you alright? Kaiba!”Joey just wanted Kaiba to be okay. What they were talking about before didn’t matter, as long as he was okay.—Puppyshipping,
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Series: Whump/Hurt/Comfort challenge [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1246169
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	To Derail the Mind of Me

**Author's Note:**

> The final bingo board spot! 
> 
> Prompt is: communication suddenly cut off 
> 
> Special thanks to Alecto who inspired this work with her fabulous fic ‘Best Laid Plan’. Is good, go read. Also to Supersteffy, because Pot O’ Mead (or Pot of Mead) needs to be a canon bar name, it’s so good!

Joey awoke when the bed went cold. He didn’t mean to, and people told him that he was a heavy sleeper, but every time Kaiba left the bed, it went cold, and he stirred for a few minutes. 

He rolled over and blinked the sleep from his eyes. More often than not, he’d drift off again, and by the time he fully woke again, Kaiba had vanished. He never got the opportunity to say good-bye, or even find out how Kaiba would respond if he managed to stay awake. 

Now was the best time to find out. 

Steam pillowed out of the en suite bathroom across the room. The shower still hissed. Joey took the time to gather his clothes up and fish his phone out of his pant’s pocket. It was weird, just laying awake in Kaiba’s bed. For them, beds were meant for sleeping or fucking—well, Kaiba called it ‘trysting’, whatever that meant—and just existing in it wasn’t really part of this ‘friends-with-benefits’ agreement they had going on. 

He curled up in the sheets and poked at his phone, glossing over LINE messages and fighting sleep. 

Kaiba’s silhouette appeared in the thin layer of steam. He padded around the bathroom in all his naked glory, and for half a second, Joey considered taking a picture before changing his mind. Nah. They weren’t like that; once they left this room, they were alien to each other. 

But he did hammer out a message: 

_< < I have a nice view   
<< it’s a butt, in case your wondering _

Kaiba’s phone pinged, and it was a second before he looked at it and then back at Joey with a disapproving ‘really’ expression, complete with quirked brow. He waited for some kind of hell-fury, but it didn’t come. Instead, Kaiba shook his head and offered a half-cocked grin as he finished drying off. 

Joey sunk into the sheets, barely peeking over them as Kaiba skirted around the bed and towards the closet, ignoring the person in his bed. It made Joey more persistent, and he turned over and flung the covers back to make sure that Kaiba had to look at him. Cock and all. 

The executive turned and paused buttoning up his shirt. “Is there something you’re trying to say?” 

“It’s uh....a little cold in here?” 

“Then put the cover on.” 

Joey frowned. “I meant the bed’s cold. Ya know, since it’s just me in here...?” 

Kaiba rolled his eyes and resumed buttoning. “I have a full schedule today.” 

“You ain’t dressed yet,” Joey replied. 

“I’m half dressed.” 

“Which isn’t full dressed. And more importantly, ya don’t have pants on yet,” he said, chuckling and knowing that Kaiba didn’t take him seriously. Why should he? This was all for fun, anyways. Something for them to let off some steam. “We got some time, it’s not that late.” 

“It will be. And then I’ll have to take another shower.” 

“Could kill two birds with one stone,” Joey suggested. “Me? You? Shower? Sounds like fun to me.” 

“It sounds like a waste of time, and I don’t have that much of it today.”

“Pretty sure I’m a good waste of time. An’ really....I’d like it if we spent more time together,” he suggested softly, before stumbling over his words to add: “‘Sides, you’re Seto Kaiba. You can make time.” 

Joey rolled onto his back and put his arms behind his head. He was still watching Kaiba from the corner of his eye, wondering if he’d been enticing enough. He crossed his legs and uncrossed them. He remembered Kaiba saying something about liking ‘parts’ of him, but he didn’t know what that meant and Kaiba never felt like elaborating. It could have been obvious; it usually was, but he still displayed himself, one leg propped up on the other knee, imagining that he was some GQ model. 

Cold air whooshed by. 

Joey closed his eyes and began to count the seconds. After ten, he mentally faltered, counting twelve twice and almost restarting. Deep down, he wanted Kaiba to come back and lay next to him on the bed, but it wouldn’t surprise Joey if he didn’t. He was a busy man. On top of that, they hadn’t discussed being exclusive, even if Joey treated their relationship that way. It made this situation more bearable. 

At twenty-four seconds (or was it twenty-five) a warm, soft palm perched itself on his hip, a thumb-pad drawing gentle whirls in his skin. He popped open one eye and peered up at Kaiba, fighting a smile. Wet bangs stuck to his forehead, and Joey couldn’t resist running his fingers through them and pushing them all the way back. 

“How much time should I make for you?” Kaiba asked, half-playful, half-serious. 

Joey looked away. “I dunno. Depends on what you got in mind.” 

With ease, Kaiba threw his legs around Joey’s hips and straddled him. He doubled down, flattening his forearms against Joey’s shoulders. Any attempt to get up was futile; he would be pushed back down and admonished, so he took it, expecting a sultry yet familiar motion of Kaiba’s thumb brushing over his upper lip. The hold loosened immediately, and butterfly light knuckles ghosted down his cheek. Joey opened his eyes without knowing what to expect. 

There was a storm in Kaiba’s usually manic and needy eyes. He was voracious, volatile, and some people might have described his appetite for sex as violent. Joey liked the mess they left behind—his personal favourite being the time they’d broken the lamp on the nightstand and weren’t precisely sure how. But this face wasn’t violent, or needy, or even the slightest bit volatile. It was restless and curious. 

Joey licked his lips and laughed, not sure what to say. “You’re really thinkin’ on that question aren’t you?” 

Kaiba shook his head and lowered it, touching foreheads with Joey. His palms flattened against Joey’s cheeks, the touch delicate, his fingers fighting on where they should settle. And he never blinked. 

Joey’s heart pounded, and his throat went dry. He arched his back to push his lips into Kaiba’s, but the kiss wasn’t returned. 

“Kaiba...?” 

“What did you mean? When you...” he looked away, “when you said you wanted to spend more time together?” 

“You know. Me and you doin’ more than doin’ it. That sort of thing.” Those words didn’t sound as good as they had in his head. “You don’t hafta take it seriously, Kaib’. I was being playful. I just want you and me for a little longer.” 

“You must have some length of time in mind.” 

“Oh I, uh, well...another fifteen minutes at least,” he answered weakly. “That’d be pretty satisfying for the both of us if ya aren’t bein’ greedy,” he teased, doing everything he could to backtrack what he had said before. 

The heavy shadow on Kaiba’s brow said that wasn’t going to happen. 

Reaching up, Joey wrapped his arms around Kaiba’s torso and pulled him back down. He couldn’t be reasoned with when he had something dogging his mind, but sex had a way of making him lose his train of thought and be somewhat normal. Fun. Exciting. And as Joey welcomed the friction against his cock, he kept imagining what a date with Kaiba would be like. Walking shoulder-to-shoulder, holding hands and talking about...something. There were things to talk about, they just needed the chance to talk about them first. 

Kaiba’s nose brushed against his, and Joey’s attention snapped back to the enigmatic man. 

“Joey,” Kaiba began, nipping his lips with kisses, “be honest with me.” 

“It’s hard to talk when you’re doin’ that,” he replied between pecks. 

“Try.” 

“I just wanted to see if we could have more time,” Joey said, cramming as many words as he could from kiss-to-kiss. “I like seein’ ya. I’d like to see more of you. Not, like, naked more of you. More of you in clothes an’ us doing things. Together. Like going to the movies or...whatever else people do when they hang out like friends.” 

“Like friends,” Kaiba repeated. 

“Not friends. Serious friends. We’re already friends, I think.” 

The kisses stopped. “Perhaps,” said Kaiba, his lips brushing Joey’s. 

Joey exhaled. “What I’m trying to say is that I want more. We’ve sorta been together for two years and that dinner on your birthday is the most personal thing we’ve done. And we were still in bed! So...I’ve been wonderin’ what it’d be like if we could do more stuff like that, but not in a bed.” 

He wished he was more eloquent. He wished he could outright say that he was falling for Kaiba in the way that they said they never would. But that was two years ago; people changed a lot in two years. Joey knew he’d changed, and Kaiba’s bedroom antics aside, he’d slowly become more amiable. Pliable. Downright nice. 

The warm hands left Joey’s face as Kaiba sat upright. 

Joey’s hands slipped down his back, cupping the back of his thighs. “You okay?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“You still wanna...?” 

“No. I’m late as it is,” Kaiba said, and he slipped off of Joey and the bed, crossing back to the closet instantly. 

Joey eased himself up and stared at his lap. “I get if you don’t wanna keep doin’ this. You told me to be honest, and I was.” Still, he tried not to be dejected. Kaiba was neither here nor there on the matter and, given how much of a genius he was, and how he liked to think and consider all the angles about anything and everything, it was possible that he was still processing. Though, to Joey, the answer was cut and dry. Either you wanted more, or you didn’t. 

“I never said I didn’t want to keep having these trysts.” 

“What do ya want then?” 

Kaiba canted his head to the side. He stared at himself intensely, with the same stormy look, as he wiggled his tie up to his throat. 

Joey had crept to the edge of the bed, but hadn’t bothered to pick his clothes up just yet. “I’m still naked. We could just fuck until we both forget that I said anything.” 

“Why?” 

“Fuck, I dunno. ‘Cause it's bothering you, an’ I still want to be able to do something with you next week.” He plucked his phone out from between the sheets. “I’ll stop talking.” 

“Yeah, right.” 

“I will. Scout’s honour.” 

“They’ll let anyone into the Scouts now, won’t they?” 

Joey shrugged. “Sure, I even got my badge for helpin’ little old ladies cross the street,” he said, and his phone opened up to the camera again. This time, he raised it up just in time catch Kaiba chortling face in the mirror. Or was it smirking? He did have a suave, smouldering gaze that Joey was fond of in bed, but it wasn’t that. It was something lighter—even moreso than the little smile in the bathroom. 

And Joey snapped a picture. If this was the last time they were going to see each other—which was absolutely, entirely possible—he wanted a picture for posterity. That, and he got a good shot of Kaiba’s ass with his trousers on this time. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Looking at your butt,” Joey half-lied, tucking his phone between his knees. “I’m gonna miss it.” 

“Stop being so dramatic.” 

“I’m dramatic? You’re the one that’s been brooding in the mirror.” 

Kaiba’s lips parted. He turned around and looked Joey up and down once more. The eyes were different, still stormy, still unsure. But force once, the glance wasn’t as hungry as usual. It was tastefully considerate. 

“I’ll think about it,” Kaiba finally said. 

“About what?” 

“Us.” 

Joey blinked and leaned back, catching himself just before falling off the edge of the bed. “You mean it?” 

“Yes.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Joey...” 

“Okay. Okay. I get it. You’ll think about,” he repeated, scooping up his clothes and throwing them on so fast that he tried to put his underwear on before his pants. By the time he got himself together, Kaiba was gone. And that was fine, because he was going to think about it. 

—

 _< < Your butt is really nice   
_ _< < it looks a lot better in suits _

_< < This might be weird but I have that one magazine you were on 6 months ago. The one with the side view?   
<< Still not as good of a picture of your butt but...  
<< lol butt but_

The messages were scattered throughout the day, since before Joey left the estate. He tapped the first one out as he went down the stairs, and the next one while waiting at a red light. 

The others were all in quick succession after he saw the ‘read’ tag next to the text bubbles. 

Kaiba said he was busy, Joey reminded himself, which meant that replying would be even farther and fewer between than usual. Up until today, their texts had primarily been about when and how they were going to meet up, because going straight to the estate was too plebeian for Kaiba, and he was paranoid to fault. He didn’t want anyone knowing what they were doing or when. Sometimes Joey was told to go to a bus station, and a car would pick him up there. Other times, Kaiba would surprise him outside of his apartment or after a competition some three hours from Domino. That had been the one time they hadn’t gotten busy in Kaiba’s bed, though they finished the night there. 

But that might have been changing. 

So Joey took it upon himself to put paragraphs between their last get together text and now. Even if it meant talking about nonsense. Kaiba would have to reply eventually.   
  


_> > Kaiba: This isn’t making me think faster.  
<< wasn’t trying to. I was just talking   
>> Kaiba: You seem particularly talkative today.   
<< I’m in a good mood  
>> Kaiba: Hm....I wonder why.  
<< because last night was amazing? Lol. And I slept good. I always end up sleeping good in your bed  
>> Kaiba: The sheets are Egyptian cotton.   
<< -___- I meant cuz I was next to you but I’m not surprised  
>> Kaiba: it’s not a related topic to anything. They’re just sheets.   
<< did you pick them out? _

The response wasn’t immediate. Expecting Kaiba to defrost in a day wasn’t happening. And Joey knew he was kidding himself if he thought that this was ‘defrosting’. It wasn’t as if Kaiba was mute; they talked all the time in bed, though it was never personal. It was likes and dislikes, cheesy questions and terrible one-liners, because not all of their dirty-talk landed. That was alright, Joey thought. If they didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have kept it up for so damn long. 

“Yo, Joe!” Tristan shouted. 

“What?”

“I said hand me the brake bleeder.” 

“Oh, right.” Joey turned back to the tool rack and grabbed a hose and spigot with a pressure gauge at the top. He handed it over to Tristan. “Sorry, I’m spacin’ out today.” 

“No kidding. You sleep last night?” 

“Hell no. I got all caught up in Duel Links.” 

Tristan chuckled. “‘Course you did.” 

“What can I say? I get bored when it ain’t competitive season,” Joey replied. He slipped back down into a plastic chair and fanned himself with his hand. The air was soupy, and Tristan’s bike garage amplified it ten-fold. They’d opened the garage door, but the sharp stench of rubber and stagnant oil didn’t go away. But helping his bud tune up his motorcycle for the afternoon was about as much as he could mentally handle outside of watching the minutes on his phone tick by. Kaiba had to reply—he couldn’t think forever. 

Then again, Kaiba was stubborn as an ox. This may have been cut-and-dry to Joey, but it was far more complicated for Kaiba. It had been complicated when they bumped into each other after a Kawasaki sponsored tournament and ended up fucking in the complimentary hotel room.

Okay, two times not in Kaiba’s bed. 

But it was complicated. Joey was just himself. He had a little clout as a professional duelist. He had a manager and a few hometown sponsorships, but Kaiba hadn’t extended his. Not yet. Joey filed that under Kaiba’s paranoia, but it could have been a sign that they really were just a fling. A tryst. And now that he’d gotten mushy, Kaiba was going to slowly ween off of him, and Joey would be shit out of luck. Back to terrible, post-tournament one-night stands and lame bar flings. 

And then his phone pinged.

_> > Kaiba: Yes.   
<< no way  
>> Kaiba: I did. But not for that reason—they keep the bed colder. It’s easier to sleep.   
<< not alone  
>> Kaiba: Considering it’s my bed, I think I have a better idea of that than you do.   
<< Whatever. I don’t like them....   
>> Kaiba: Is this really what you want to talk about right now? _

Before Tristan got curious, Joey flicked over to Duel Links, just in case Tristan got curious. The opening theme played loudly, and he fumbled to turn the sound down. 

He didn’t know how to reply. No, he really didn’t want to talk about sheets, but it was something to talk about. It wasn’t about screwing. It was tangentially related to screwing, but it was leagues different. It was domestic and cute and what couples talked about. 

Licking his lips, Joey replied:

_< < I want to talk in general  
<< If that’s okay   
>> Kaiba: I don’t think you could go a day without talking.   
<< What?!?! I so could!   
>> Kaiba: Doubt  
<< Is that supposed to be a challenge? Cuz if it is I’m totally taking you up on it. I won’t talk for...three whole days! _

Joey sucked on his lip and looked up at Tristan. He was done with the motorbike and wiping the oil from his hands. 

“Wanna go get a drink?” Joey blurted out. This whole conversation was weird. His knees knocked together he was so nervous, even though there was nothing to be nervous about. Still, he clamped his hands around his phone as it pinged again. “My treat, man. We can go over to Pot O'Mead. I think the Lakers are playin’ the Knicks.” 

Tristan’s mouth twisted to the side. Okay, maybe he was too nervous. 

“You got money on it or something?” 

“Uh...” 

“Because if you’re turning into your old man, you’d better tell me now so I can get you some help.” 

“No, I—,” 

A shrill ring made Joey jump. He threw his phone from his hands, and it landed a few feet from him. Without seeing it he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that it was Kaiba. 

He rushed to it before Tristan could grab it. “I gotta take this,” he said. 

“Joey, are you alright?” Tristan asked. 

He stepped out into the cool, dusky air. Crickets chirped in the distance, and Joey answered the phone, pressing it to his ear. “What’s up?” 

“You really are something,” said Kaiba. “And you lose.”

“Lose? Lose what?” 

“The bet.” 

“We didn’t bet anything.” Joey notched his shoulder against the side of the garage. He could feel Tristan staring him down. “I was just saying I’d leave you alone for three days since I feel I’m still bothering you. I can’t help it. I’m a little nervous over here.” 

“And you think I’m not?” 

“Uh...no?” 

“Guess again.” 

“That’s news to me,” Joey said, tucking his free hand under the opposite arm. His stared at the scuffed tips of his shoes. “I wouldn’t know what made you nervous. Heck, I don’t really know what would make ya happy, either. I’d like to. That’s probably pretty obvious, since I’ve been making an idiot of myself, but in case it wasn’t: I wanna get to know ya. What makes ya sad, happy, angry, hungry, scared. All that sappy stuff.” 

“Mm.” 

“And I guess I’d rather know sooner rather than later if that’s even possible.” 

“I told you I’d think on it. You expect Rome to be built in a day,” Kaiba scoffed. 

“By you? Yeah, a little bit. Seems like the kind of question you’d know the answer to pretty quickly,” Joey said, his nervousness turning into anger. Or maybe he was upset, delaying the inevitable. “I remember watching ya throw out all the Valentine’s the girls stuffed in your locker. You wasted so much chocolate.” 

“Because that was a quick decision. There were no feelings. No one would be disappointed,” Kaiba said flatly. 

“Is that what you’re worried about? Disappointin’ me? Fuck, I didn’t know ya cared that much,” Joey said with a twinge of sarcasm. “Or...maybe you’re worried about bein’ disappointed. Hadn’t thought of that.” His throat was getting raw. He couldn’t tell where this conversation was going, only that he the other end of the line was getting muffled by hundreds of distance, garbled voices. It was as good an excuse as any to move on. “Ya know what, wherever you are sounds busy. You said you’d think about it, I said I wouldn’t talk for three days. So that’s it.” 

“Is it now?” Kaiba asked, his voice barely audible. 

“Yeah. But ya gotta give me an answer,” Joey said, “even if it’s disappointing.” 

“Then I don’t think it’s going to take me three days.” 

A lump formed in Joey’s throat. “No?” 

“No, I think we should—,” 

_  
Bang!_

  
“Kaiba?” 

  
_Bang!_

“Kaiba. Kaiba? What happened? Was that gunshots? Kaiba?....Seto! Answer me, dammit! What the hell’s goin’ on? Where are you? Are you alright? Kaiba!” 

He struggled to breathe. His hand clamped over his mouth as the shots rung in his head. 

It wasn’t a gunshot. It couldn’t have been. 

He squatted down to avoid falling over, gripping the corner of the garage for support. 

“Joe!” Tristan shouted. 

“Kaiba? Kaiba, c’mon man, answer me! Ya gotta finish what you were sayin’....” he trailed off, and he numbly felt someone around him, supporting him to stand. “C’mon, please say something. Anythin’. We should—we should what...?” 

“Are you alright, man?” Tristan asked. 

“C’mon! Seto, c’mon...say somethin’...” 

Tristan ushered him into the garage. He was talking, but Joey only saw his mouth move and didn’t register the words. He drowned any noise not coming his phone. Muffled shouting, screaming. Panic. 

There was no way this was real. Kaiba was going to pick up the phone and cut back in saying: “Before I was so rudely interrupted...” and he could go back to being selfish and worrying if they were going to become something, or if Kaiba was just going to blow him off and...

...and the line clicked off. 

Joey’s hand dropped to his side like dead weight. 

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” Tristan asked. He clapped his hands on Joey’s shoulders and shook him. “Are you in with a bookie already? If you’re deep in, man, you gotta let me know. I knew that sponsorship money would go to your head one of these days.” 

“No, I...” 

“I’m not judgin’ you, man. If you have a problem, we can fix this, alright? The first step is admitting it, okay?” 

Joey’s phone pinged. Hope welled in his chest, and he brought it up onto to have the wind knocked out of him a second time. 

‘ _KWIX 9, Breaking News: Shots fired at Domino Airport. Seto Kaiba, President and CEO of Kaiba Corporation, among the wounded...’_

“Seto’s been shot, Tris. I heard him get shot,” Joey said, not fully registering what he said until he looked down at his phone again. His legs gave out from under him, and he fell back into the plastic chair before Tristan could catch him. “I heard him get shot.” 

—

_< < Are you ok? _   
_< < Are you ok? _   
_< < Are you ok? _

Joey stared at the flashing cursor, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard, ready to send the message a fourth time. 

He hammered the backspace button and crammed his phone between his knees. At some point, he’d managed to get to the hospital and plant himself in a butt-numbing chair, though he didn’t know exactly when or how. He just knew that he’d be waiting, endlessly, with no intention of leaving, but nowhere to go. No one was going to tell him where to go or direct him. He wasn’t going to get a shred of news and, knowing that, he didn’t bother to ask. He was nobody, with no reason to be there other than feeling compelled.

Five years ago, he might have been more hot-headed and ran in and demanded to know where Kaiba was, which would have gotten his ass kicked out of there faster than he could blink. Which he knew would because, on his way in, a news crew was being escorted out by Kaiba’s personal guard. 

One of them—Roland, he recalled—spent a moment looking him over. Joey barely noticed. He honed in on the large, ruddy splotches smattered across the front of his shirt. 

Blood. Kaiba’s blood. 

Joey closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall. He couldn’t think about how that got there without his eyes watering. He tried falling asleep in this chair to pass the time, but each time he was close to drifting off, his phone buzz. Nothing. Instagram notifications; spam emails. Other than a quick message from Yugi, no one had reached out to him about Kaiba. Why would they? No one knew they were together. 

He wasn’t even sure they were together. 

They were barely seeing each other. 

They were acquaintances. Friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. They were a tryst in the night and barely a glance in the morning. They were hot, inescapable nights and cold, hellish mornings. Mornings that left Joey feeling empty and alone, wanting more. 

He stifled a fresh round of tears. Fuck, why was he crying? Earlier, he’d been so pissed off when Tristan dropped him off at his apartment that he upended an end table and threw its contents across the floor. Then he sank onto the couch and buried his face in his hands. Somewhere between the couch and the hospital, his anger bled away to anxious anticipation. Fear. A little loathing. 

Those last words—not last words, they weren’t Kaiba’s last words—hung in his head. _No, I think we should_....and the _bang!_...and the numbness, replayed in his head again and again. He was so selfish. All he wanted to know was what Kaiba was going to say. ‘No, I think we should call it off’ or ‘No, I think we should take a break’ or ‘No, I think we should pretend this never happened’ or maybe even: ‘No, I think we should get together.’ 

There were more important things at stake than a relationship. Life and limb were on the line, but all Joey could do was berate himself for wondering if he was going to have a boyfriend for the first time in months. 

Years. 

His chest tightened, and he shook his head. They’d been together for two years. He’d had every kind of intimate moment a person could have in bed with this man. There had been nights where he laid awake thinking about the pretend dates they could have and the things they could do outside of the bedroom. He’d spent months working himself up to asking Kaiba what he’d asked this morning. He’d almost done it once, when they met up at a café, and instead they ducked into a nearby hotel because they didn’t want to wait for the car. 

Three times, he thought. They’d been together outside of Kaiba’s bedroom three times. 

But it had been more than that, too. He’d lingered around restaurants and parks, waited out in front of his apartment, been picked up from the airport or guided somewhere outside of the rain by a suit acting on Kaiba’s direct order. These meet-ups had been meticulous and thoughtful. They always ended up in Kaiba’s bed, but they started somewhere else, and sometimes he’d gotten the pleasure to sit beside Kaiba in the car all the way back to the mansion. Sometimes, he’d been so love-drunk and brave that he’d slap his hand overtop of Kaiba’s and caress the insides of his fingers. And Kaiba would knit there fingers together, pull Joey’s hand up, and kiss the soft space between the thumb and pointer finger. 

Fuck. 

He wanted Kaiba to be okay. Whatever he was going to say earlier wasn’t important. Their status as partners or lovers or fuck-buddies didn’t matter. Whether or not they ended up in a relationship had no bearing on how much he cared, and was going to care, about Kaiba. He just wanted to see him and know that he was okay. 

—

For hours, the thoughts of the day spun like a merry-go-round and left him clouded and unable to sleep no matter how hard tired he was. He had a vague idea that the nurses were watching him. One of them tried to talk to him, but he hadn’t registered what she said. He took short walks around the front lobby to get a change of scenery and distract himself, but it was all the same. Cold and sterile, constantly reminding him why he was there. After a while, his thoughts all blended together, no beginning, no end. Question. Gunshot. Blood. Question. Gunshot. Blood. Rhythmic, over and over again, until the words didn’t make sense but their connotation still longer. 

And then finally, 24 hours after begging Kaiba to come back to bed, Joey nodded off. 

Sometime later, a strong hand gripped his shoulder and shook it. 

He yawned until his jaw cracked. He’d slid halfway down the chair and couldn’t feel his legs. Stretching them out sent his phone clattering across the tile, and he clambered to pick it up. He was stopped by a pair of charcoal grey dress pants planted in front of him, and it registered that someone had woken him. 

Roland bent down and handed the phone back to Joey. 

“Uh...thanks.” He checked the screen for cracks before turning back at Roland. His heart jumped into his throat. “What brings ya?” he asked tentatively. 

“I recalled seeing you down here last night and mentioned it to Master Mokuba. He was curious if you were still down here.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’m surprised you were able to sleep.” 

“Don’t let that fool ya. It was an accident.”

“It’s been a long day,” Roland said, careworn. 

“Yeah.” 

“I imagine it’s not been comfortable for you here,” Roland said, and he stepped aside. “Follow me.” 

Joey stood, holding the chair for balance. “It ain’t gonna be comfortable anywhere, honestly. Here, home. I jus’ wanted to be...” and he paused, looking Roland in the face. He saw his own disheveled self in the bodyguard’s sunglasses. His eyes downcast. “I needed to be here.” 

“We realised as much,” Roland replied. “Follow me if you would, Mr. Wheeler?” 

Joey took a step back. “I can kick myself out, thanks.” 

“I’m not kicking you out.” The bodyguard slackened, and his stoic face became somber and knowing. “On the contrary, Mokuba thought that Mr. Kaiba would fare better if you were nearby.”

“Why?” 

“Because your relationship isn’t as anonymous as you think it is. Now, if you would…”

Roland walked ahead and Joey followed, wary but hopeful. He never thought loitering around would pay off. Being in the hospital was good enough, he told himself, but as they climbed onto the elevator, a beleaguered breath escaped him. 

“How is he?” 

“Stable, but sedated.” 

“Out cold, huh?” Joey opened his phone and scanned the morning news coming out about the attack. A lone gunman. Twelve injured, two dead. “Is it bad?” 

“He was shot twice. Once in the back, the other skimmed the neck.” 

Joey ran his fingers through his hair and squeezed his eyes closed. Through the back. So Kaiba hadn’t even seen them coming. 

“Is he gonna be alright?” 

“It’s day to day. The bullet lodged dangerously close to his spine, and as of right now, they aren’t sure what the damage is.”

A cold wave washed over Joey, and his hand slipped to the back of his neck, gripping and clawing at his skin. “So, he could be…” and he shook his head, not wanting to acknowledge the possibility that Kaiba could become paralysed. After so many death defying scenarios he’d been through, how could something this simple, this random, do him in? Joey refused to believe it. They’d wait and see. 

The doors opened to a quieter hallway, and Roland led him by several long corridors until they approached an empty wing in the very back. A bodyguard stepped to the side to let them through and retook his position. At the very end of the hall, two more guards sat in plush chairs facing a single door.

Roland stepped up to the door. “Master Mokuba is inside and knows you’re coming.” 

“Okay. Thanks.” 

Nodding, Roland pushed the door open. 

He stepped in and jammed his hands in his pockets, looking back when the door closed behind him.

The room was nice and secluded. The curtains were closed, and the lights were dimmed. The steady beat of a heart monitor centered Joey, and he beelined to the noise until he stopped at the bed rail. 

Too close. 

His legs wouldn’t let him leave, and he grabbed the armchair behind him and pulled it up to sit. 

Kaiba was pallid and listless. His body was crooked in an unnaturally still way, his legs propped up somewhere beneath the blankets. His chest rose and fell, making half-stops in between, but he was breathing in his own. His head was turned away from Joey, giving a clear view of the lump of gauze on his neck. 

Tentatively, Joey stuck his hand out, but dropped it an inch shy of Kaiba’s. For all he knew, Kaiba would shatter under the touch. Even if he knew that Kaiba was strong, in body and will, he didn’t want to be the cause of anything. He felt guilty enough for being on the phone when he was shot. 

“Joey…?” a hoarse voice muttered. 

On the other side of the bed, Mokuba was curled up in a chair with a blanket thrown over him. 

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Mmm not a kid,” Mokuba protested. He wriggled around and pulled the cover closer around him. “Glad you’re here.” 

“I am, too. I haven’t been able to stop worryin’ about him.” 

“I know. I read your texts.” 

Joey’s ears warmed. “I was freaked out. It was stupid to text him, but I couldn’t really do anythin’ else,” and he was poised towards Kaiba as he said it. “Sorry if it bothered ya.” 

“You didn’t. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it when he wakes up,” Mokuba asserted. 

“I hope so.” 

The teen chuckled and curled back into his cocoon of blanket, falling back asleep as if it was easy. Maybe this was something he was used to, or he was so numb that going to sleep was easier. 

Joey agreed, but he couldn’t make himself, even as he slipped from the top of the railing to the edge of the bed. He buried his face in his arms and pretended to sleep, pretended to dream that this wasn’t real, that they’d wake up in bed together and start the day, again and again, until he heard Kaiba’s voice and looked into his eyes. Until he saw the little grin in the mirror. 

Something ghostly, but warm, roused him from his half-dreams. It traced across his forearm, along the bump in his wrist, and down to where his fingers were curled into the coverlet. 

Slowly, steadily, Kaiba slid his thumb and forefinger around Joey’s pinky and held it there, though the fingers lacked their usual force or grace. Once Kaiba found where he wanted his hand, the rest of his arm slackened against the bed. 

Joey eased up, making sure he didn’t move his hand away from Kaiba’s. He’d spent so long trying to find the grip that it would have pained Joey to waste his effort. 

“Hey,” Joey whispered.

“...Joey...” he rasped. 

Tears welled, and Joey wiped his cheeks before he shed them. “Yeah. You don’t gotta talk,” he said, biting back the absolute relief from hearing Kaiba’s voice. He didn’t care what happened next. He was here with Kaiba, it would be okay. “I can do all the talkin’. If that’s okay.” 

“...mmhmm…” 

“Okay.” 

**Author's Note:**

> It’s all finished. The whole whump board is done, and I particularly like this one, even if it’s muddy. It’s meant to be that way. How Joey feels is a mess and it’s not particularly clear what Kaiba’s answer was, but it’s open to interpretation.
> 
> Tell me what you think!


End file.
